


How Things Fall

by bluetoast



Series: Not Exactly the Stuff of Fairy Tales [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drunk Driving, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kid Rey, Young Ben Solo, car crashes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:41:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13078059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetoast/pseuds/bluetoast
Summary: Rey doesn't like it when her parents shout at each other. She wasn't sure what happened, but one minute, they'd been yelling - and then she was cold, sore and a scrawny boy with big ears was talking to her through the missing window of the car.Written for HC Bingo - Asphyxiation





	How Things Fall

Mommy and Daddy are talking loudly at each other again. 

Rey doesn't know why they can't talk quietly like other parents do. She sunk back into her seat, focusing on anything other than the mean, mean, words her parents are using. The taste of cinnamon still lingers in her mouth, and she wished she'd grabbed another cookie before they left the party. She'd eaten carefully, not wanting to get anything on her pretty sparkly dress. Mommy would be angry if she got her new dress dirty. 

The streetlights illuminate the rain, and she keeps her gaze out the window, watching as they pass houses covered in bright, multi-colored lights. Some with a single color outlining the windows. They're bigger than her own home, and she thinks three or four of her her house could fit into one of these. What did people do with all those rooms?

Maybe they had more kids.

“You had more to drink than I did, and ate less. You should let me drive.” Mommy's voice was starting to get screechy. She only got screechy when she was really, really, mad. “Honestly.”

“Shut the hell up, you've been at it all day, bitch.” Daddy's voice wasn't as angry as Mommy's. He got quiet when he was mad. 

Rey pressed her fist against her mouth, biting her knuckles to keep from crying. If she cried, it would make things worse. She thought back to the party. The lovely party in the big house with blue and white lights in the windows, and a Christmas tree she was certain touched the ceiling, covered in ornaments of a dozen colors. She didn't have a tree at her house. Not this year. You didn't need a tree or a chimney for Santa Claus. She had done her best to be extra good this year. Not once had she failed to get a hundred on her school work. If Mommy remembered to take her to see Santa Claus tomorrow she was going to ask him for Daddy to stop calling Mommy such mean names. 

Surely she'd been good enough he could find away to grant such a nice wish.

“Will you watch what you're doing!” Mommy snapped, bringing her out of her thoughts. “In case you haven't noticed, it's sleeting.” 

“I suppose that's my fault then?” Daddy roared and Rey shrank further down in her seat. “They're your stupid friends. They only asked us because you've known them forever.” 

“Oh, like you weren't enjoying every minute of it?” Mommy snorted. “For fuck's sake...” 

Rey covered her head with her hands as a horrible loud screeching sound filled her ears and the car swerved around in a circle and kept spinning. She bit her lip so hard it hurt and closed her eyes as she felt herself turning upside down, over and over.

_Bang._

Right side up?

_Crunch._

Mommy's voice was cut off mid-scream.

_Slam._

Upside down?

_Shatter._

Daddy wasn't making any noise.

_Crash._

The whole car shook one last time before blessed silence came. Quiet, save for the sound of the rain. Rey lowered her arms, trembling as she opened her eyes. It was dark, and she was still strapped to her car seat, and she felt – odd. 

She couldn't feel much of anything.

The windows were gone; the cold was coming inside. She tasted something – blood? – on her lips as she wet them. “Mommy?” Her head felt so funny. “Daddy?” She wiped her nose and held her hand up, eyes widening as she saw the cuts on it. If she got blood on her new dress, Mommy would be very angry. “Mommy?” She coughed, and then heard someone outside. 

“My address is five-two-five Ash Court.” It was a boy. “The car's in my backyard, by the oak tree.” He was coming closer. “I won't go into the wreck, ma'am, and I don't smell gas.” 

Another sound, distant, reached Rey. Sirens.

“Mommy?” She called again, and a moment later, a figure appeared next to the car. 

“There's a kid in the backseat. She's awake.” The boy was holding a phone next to his ear. One of those cordless phones mommy said were a waste of money. “Talk to her?” He came a little closer and set the receiver against his shoulder. “Hi.” 

“Mommy won't answer me.” She felt her bottom lip quiver and she was starting to feel cold.

He looked up at her mommy, then back at her. “I think your mom's sleeping.” He came closer to the car. He had dark hair and stupid big ears, like Dumbo the Elephant. “What's your name?” 

“Rey. I'm five years old.” she sniffled. “Mommy's going to be mad at me if I get my dress dirty.” 

He reached his hand in at her, showing small cuts on the back of his fingers. “If she asks, tell her it was my fault. I scraped my knuckles and got your dress dirty when I checked on you.” He put the phone back to his ear. “There isn't a fence.” He hiccuped.. “It's cold, sleeting and the kid's scared. She says she's five years old.” 

“Not scared!” Rey managed to burst out, but she felt the tears starting, and the sirens were getting louder.

The boy reached his hand into the car again and she took it, holding on as tight as she could. “My name is Ben Solo. Again, my address is five-two-five Ash Court. It's the house with the car in the backyard.” He gave her a funny look. “I'm fifteen, ma'am.” 

Rey squeezed his fingers, her head starting to hurt more. “I feel sleepy.” 

“Don't go to sleep yet, Rey.” Ben set the phone back on his shoulder. “You keep talking to me until the paramedics get here, okay?” 

“I don't like doctors.” She whimpered. “Why isn't mommy awake yet?”

“I don't know, Rey.” There was something in his tone she couldn't place. “I think your dad's sleeping too.” 

“Why can't I sleep?” She coughed. “I want to sleep.” 

He squeezed her fingers and she looked at him, blinking. He looked sort of funny, his hair was starting to stick to his face in the rain. “Who's your favorite Disney princess?” 

“Mulan.” She smiled. “She's...she's a _badass_.” Ben's eyes grew wide, and she almost laughed. He must not have heard the name before. “Mommy says I shouldn't use that word, but it doesn't change what Mulan is.” 

“Yeah, Mulan's pretty awesome.” He waved his free arm at someone she couldn't see before turning back to her. “You're going to be okay, all right kiddo? The paramedics are here and they're going take care of you now.” An older man appeared behind him and he squeezed her fingers one more time. “Be brave like Mulan, okay?” 

“Okay.” She let go of his fingers. “Good bye, Ben Solo.” She whimpered as he pulled away and the adult filled the window, and there was a loud noise as he opened the door. “I'm cold.” 

“I know, honey, we're going to get you out of there and someplace warm real soon.” The man said, starting to undo the fastenings of her car-seat. “I need you to keep still for another minute, okay?” 

She nodded. “Mommy and Daddy are sleeping.” 

*

There was something soft and fluffy under her arm. Rey couldn't remember much after Ben Solo wasn't holding her hand anymore. She'd been really sore, cold and sleepy and after the man gotten her out of the car, she'd closed her eyes, telling herself when she woke up, it'd be all over, or she'd find it'd all been a dream. 

But she didn't have any stuffed animals as soft as the one under her arm. 

“Mommy?” she ventured, opening her eyes. She was in a bed – not her bed – and someone, not her, was whimpering. “Mommy?” she tried again.

“Good morning, honey.” A woman appeared at her bedside. She was wearing a dark blue shirt with lighter blue snowflakes all over it. “How are you this morning?”

“Where's mommy?” A horrible thought occurred to her; where was her dress? If she _lost_ the dress, it'd be even worse than getting it dirty. 

The woman's smile faltered, and then she shook her head. “Are you hungry?” 

Rey flinched and looked down towards the fluffy thing – there was a stuffed lion stuck under her arm. Where did he come from? Had she slept all the way to Christmas and Santa had left it for her? “Is Daddy with Mommy?”

“Yes, honey, he is.” The woman did something to the bed and Rey found herself sitting up. It was kind of fun. “It's time for breakfast.” 

“Is it Christmas already?” She rubbed her nose. “Did Santa leave me the lion?”

“Oh.” Her expression softened. “No sweetie, Christmas is still a week away. I think the boy who found you, I think he and his family sent you the lion.” 

“I'll have to say thank you.” She swallowed. “I'm sure daddy is sorry for hitting their tree.” There had been a tree – she could remember it, it was what stopped the car. She could remember a little more; green lights and a boy with big ears.

“Why don't you have some breakfast?” She slid a tray in front of her and set another, smaller tray on it. “You don't have to eat everything, just try and eat a little, okay?” 

“Okay.” she tucked the lion against her side as the nice lady put a straw in her milk, and unwrapped her fork and spoon. “Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” she smiled again and then went around a curtain, leaving her alone.

She looked away, down at hands and arms – Rey hadn't noticed all the bandages until now. Things were so fuzzy in her head. She leaned forward and took a small sip of milk. Not too cold, and as she took another, she picked up a slice of toast. It was the only thing she felt like eating right now.

Mommy or Daddy would be here soon and they could all go home.

*

Why did the phone always ring when she was in the middle of something? Grabbing the receiver with two fingers, Jyn Andor tucked it between her shoulder and chin as she went to wash her hands. “Good morning, Andor residence.” 

“Hello, Mrs. Andor?” A woman's voice, unfamiliar, replied. “This is Callie Jacobs, calling from social services.” 

Jyn shut the water off, almost dropping the phone. “Oh, hello.” She tried to sound cheerful, but in truth; she secretly hated it every time she and Cassian got one of these calls. By her estimation, too many children had come into their house and had been ripped away almost as soon as she and her husband had settled into things. “How are you today?” 

“I'm as well as can be expected.” There was a pause. “I've seen your file, Mrs. Andor.” 

“It's the holidays.” Jyn leaned against the threshold, looking into the family room where a Christmas tree stood, only a handful of packages under it. Holidays were supposed to be joyful things, weren't they? Now people could use it as an easy excuse for anything.

Good or bad.

“I understand, Mrs. Andor.” Callie cleared her throat and her voice dropped somewhat. “Is your house still open to welcoming a foster child?” 

Jyn closed her eyes, always hating this moment. Every time she had said yes, and the children had come – and then the children were taken away. Agreeing again was almost guaranteeing another heartbreak, another agonizing period of grief. “How many?”

“Just one. She's five years old.” The pause was a little longer than seemed necessary. “We can't find any relations.” 

She jumped as she felt a hand on her arm and she looked up as her husband took the phone from her. “Cassian.” She hissed.

“Good morning.” He smiled at her, and then his smile flickered. “Oh, I see. Yes.” He kept smiling. “I think it would be lovely.” He nodded. “Poor little thing, how tragic.” He turned and started writing on the message paper next to the phone.

Jyn shook her head and went back over to the counter, doing her best to ignore the conversation behind her as she went back to rolling meatballs. Even if the child in question was only here for the holidays, it somehow be all the more worse. Someone would turn up, take the little one away and she'd spend nights on end worrying about what happened to them. She still worried; a stable home with people who cared about them – taking innocent children and returning them to the people whose reckless, selfish actions had lost them their child in the first place.

How unfair – most of all to the child more than anyone.

“We can be there this afternoon, and thank you.” Cassian's voice made her close her eyes as he hung up the phone. “I know what you're thinking, Jyn. I won't insult you by telling you that maybe, this time it will be different. We knew this would happen when we signed the papers.” 

“I know. But does it have to happen every time?” She took a deep breath then looked back at her work. “We're headed to social services this afternoon?” 

“No.” He hugged her from behind, resting his head on top of hers. “The little girl is in the hospital. Ms Jacobs wants us to meet her there.” He came around to her side and lifted her chin with his hand. “This time, Jyn, if we have to, we fight to keep the child.” 

She gave him a look. “You haven't even met her yet.” She steeled herself, knowing how hard this afternoon was going to be already. “If we have an appointment, then I'm going to need your help to finish this.” She indicated the bowl of ground meat. “Wash your hands.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He kissed her cheek and went over to the sink. “It'll work out this time, Jyn. Trust me.”


End file.
